37. Spring

I woke after dawn. It was sprinkling lightly, but the clouds were pink, and there would be a bit of sun later. The weather would continue to be unpredictable as the end of March grew near, but I knew the days were slowly tending warmer.

I looked out the window for a while, and touched my fingertips to the Marauders' Map. Then I dressed and went down to the great hall for breakfast.

Neville and Pomona Sprout were just on their way out of the great hall as I came down the stairs. They were dressed in robes and boots for the outdoors, and I figured Pomona was still coaching Neville, as he would be taking over her position as Herbology professor in the coming year. Indeed she was talking, half to herself, about what they would be working on that morning. I gave Neville a wave, which he returned, as they walked through the doors.

Minerva and Sybill were sitting across from each other, and Severus was sitting beside Minerva. I sat down next to Sybill, and Severus's mouth twitched with the hint of a smile.

"Good morning, Miss Weasley," Minerva said. "I wonder if you and Severus would join me in my office when you're through eating."

I glanced at Severus, but he didn't seem to know what Minerva was planning to speak with us about. Sybill was chewing on her bottom lip, and seemed to have a guess. I shuffled off my unnerved feeling and poured myself some tea. "Of course," I said.

I ate quickly, and didn't have much of an appetite anyway. A few minutes later I was following Minerva up the stairs of the Gryffindor Tower, Severus a step or two behind.

Yellow sunlight streamed in through the narrow windows of her office. I looked out at the lake and the forest, and the hills beyond. The weather was lovely, and I wanted to do some flying today.

Minerva offered us seats, and Severus accepted but I stayed standing. "I'll be clear from the start," Minerva began, and I got that familiar nervousness in my belly from her tone. "It is my belief that you, Severus, should take over teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, and you, Wilma, should begin training to teach Potions. That is, if you are interested in a post, and if you both agree. Defence Against the Dark Arts is the senior position, and it's no secret to any of us, Severus, that you've had your eye on it for some time."

There was a very tense pause.

I felt anger and grief bubbling up in my chest. I knew that it hadn't been set in stone that Remus would have taught Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Minerva making this decision made me feel nonetheless that she had given up faith in him returning.

Also, the very thought of taking a teaching position continued to make me anxious. A class like Potions, which was one of the most difficult and dangerous subjects to teach, seemed far above my level of ability. I looked to Severus, wide-eyed, expecting him to say no. Surely he wouldn't trust me with the post he'd held for years.

He was staring at Minerva, and slowly looked at me when he registered my intent gaze. He couldn't hide the slight triumph in his eyes. It was true–everyone knew he was after the Defence Against the Dark Arts post. I had to admit that when he'd taught it in my final year, though he'd been quite brutal, he'd been excellent.

Minerva looked between us, waiting for one of us to speak. Severus's eyes were now questioning as he looked at me.

"I…" I began. "I don't think I'd be able to."

Minerva looked at me with a bit of surprise. "To teach?"

I winced inwardly as I remembered Molly and Arthur's pleased faces when I'd told them about the possibility of teaching at Hogwarts. But I wasn't going to lie and conceal my doubts.

"No," I answered. "And certainly not Potions."

"I don't doubt your ability," Severus intervened, his voice silken and cautious. "You were an exceptional student."

I looked at him hard, trying to detect any hint of sarcasm in his eyes. He certainly hadn't made that clear to me when I'd been his student. He'd always favoured the Slytherins in his classes, whether they'd been deserving or not. Though I'd received marks to take pride in, and was seen by many of my peers as the best in the class, I had believed that he strongly disliked me. But there was no trace of the old maliciousness in his eyes now.

His voice was sincere when he spoke. "I would be willing to coach you, if you agree."

I recalled seeing Neville and professor Sprout that morning. Perhaps it would do us good, in a personal capacity, to have a task to focus on together. But I doubted that I was truly up to the task.

Minerva drew in a breath, looking at Severus. "It is vital that our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher be experienced. I have no doubt that you would be trusted with the subject. Would you accept?"

He hesitated for only a second before answering, "I would."

I felt my heart pounding. Remus hadn't been trusted with the position, though he should have been. A wave of spite entered my bloodstream as I recalled how relentlessly cruel Severus had been to him throughout the year he'd taught. He'd even made snide remarks about him during lessons in Potions. I felt defensive and forced myself to cool down. Severus was quite different now, but it was sometimes difficult to remember that.

"Wilma," Minerva said. "I did not make this suggestion lightly. I do believe you would be very well suited to teach Potions."

I felt trapped as I looked between them, Minerva's eyes expectant and Severus's neutral. I could tell he was trying not to pressure me either way, but I still felt unable to speak. They were waiting for my answer.

"Alright," I said, after a long moment.

"You agree?" Minerva asked.

"Yes."

An approving look entered her face. "Very good," she said.

As Severus and I left Minerva's office, I already felt the weight of impending responsibility.

"There is much to cover," Severus said, as we went down the spiral staircase. I found myself holding tightly to the stone bannister, fighting a feeling of nausea. "We should begin tomorrow."

"Alright," I agreed.

"Unless you would rather start today."

He had misread the trembling in my voice, and I shook my head. "Tomorrow," I confirmed. "I want to go and fly for a while."

"Fine day for it," he said.

I nodded. I sensed that he was making an effort to clear the air between us, but I only wanted to get away as soon as I could.

Once we were downstairs I went outside to the broomshed, where I selected the fastest model. The weather was lovely, and I breathed it in, trying to soak in some of its goodness. But there was still a coiled darkness and stress in my heart and throat. I didn't realise until I was already flying over the forest that I was crying.

My heart was overflowing with grief for Remus. In my very bones I felt that I had betrayed him by trying so hard to block him from my mind in the past weeks. Clearly that method wasn't working. I could feel the damage it was doing to my heart. I had been denying it, but I knew now that I would have to grieve Remus just as I had grieved Fred–even though I didn't believe he had died, he was no longer a part of my life.

The wind whipping my skin, I flew far out past the forest and into the hills. I slowed down, bending my head towards my shoulder to wipe away my tears. There were lonely fields and stone walls and sheep below. I soon found a line of trees which shielded a trickling creek coming down a steep rocky hillside.

I touched down carefully at the edge of the pines, getting my footing on the steep hill before walking under the dense dark canopy to the creek. I sat on a rock with my broom leant up against it for a few minutes, letting the tears flow until my eyes were dry again.

The sound of the creek was lovely, but also made me restless. I watched the water bubbling white over the rocks, folding back over itself before being swept inevitably downwards by the current. Even water tries to go back in time.

Needing to escape my thoughts, I mounted my broom again and flew further north. I soared above the clouds for a while, going over small villages. Soon I realised I was flying over open water, and turned around until I found the cold and barren coast. I landed once I was certain there were no villages or people nearby, and walked up the deserted windy beach, carrying my broomstick. My ankles ached as my heels slipped among the smooth stones, and I squinted my eyes against the wind.

I didn't know how long I'd been walking before the sun began to go down, setting the sky majestically alight. A group of birds soared overhead, heading south to the Cairngorms.

You should start back, Fred's voice advised.

"You wouldn't be starting back," I retorted.

I realised that I had spoken out loud. I quieted my mind, waiting for his response, but there was none. I found myself crying again as I sank and sat down on the stones, looking out at the waves. It couldn't really be his voice, could it? I knew I was really hearing it, but my mind was producing it. It wasn't coming from him, wherever he was. I knew that now for a fact, and resented how long I'd held on. It had been almost a whole year now since Fred's death.

I held my head in frustration and looked out over the blue horizon. Old pain crowded my body and I cried until the wind grew strong enough to blow it all away. I was a hollow vessel, bitter and dry.

The sun slipped below the horizon and it was getting very cold, the wind blowing harder. My body was numb. I didn't want to move. It would be easy to let myself go; to stay here through the night, and when the dark came I would be invisible, I would be no more.

A familiar orb of light appeared, and slowly unfurled into Severus's doe. "It's getting dark. Are you on your way back?"

The doe disappeared.

I drew my wand and thought of one of my usual happy memories, walking with Fred near the river near the Burrow. "Expecto patronum," I murmured. But nothing happened.

I tried again, relaxing my mind and thinking of another–Fred and I in the great hall, after pulling of some joyful mischief. "Expecto patronum," I said. Still nothing.

I silenced my inner frustration and closed my eyes. I quieted myself, allowing myself to tune in to the sound of the wind, taking everything but my soul away. Soon a new memory floated into my body. The day before Christmas, when Remus found me holding Teddy in Diagon Alley, watching the snow. He'd smiled when he'd seen us, touched Teddy's nose and kissed my forehead.

I barely knew what I was doing as I cast the spell again. This time it worked. There were tears on my cheeks, but my raven was there, waiting for my message.

"I'm on my way," I said quietly. Then I thought of Severus, and the raven disappeared.

I forced myself to stand up and mount my broom. I had at least two hours to get back to the castle. I tried not to contemplate the difficulty with my patronus, but it was impossible. I was clearly holding on tightly to Remus, but I didn't want to let Fred go. I didn't want to let anyone go.

The lights of Hogwarts came into sight long after dark. I landed in the courtyard by the whispering fountain. I would return the broomstick in the morning. It was very cold, and my body was stiff from the time in the freezing air. My knees ached as I climbed the stairs and opened the front doors.

I leaned against the door for a minute, pressing my palm to my forehead. The hours without food or water were bringing on a headache. I wandered forward, and saw that the fire in the great hall had been kept alive late. Severus was sitting alone in a chair in front of it, a book balanced on his knee. He wasn't reading it, but looking into the flames. He turned his head when I appeared in the entryway.

"I'm sorry–" I started.

"I was worried," he said. There was a bit of the old harshness in his tone, and I felt my walls go up at once.

"I'm sorry," I said again.

"I'd prefer it if you weren't out so long after dark."

I nodded silently. I felt that I was being reprimanded, and knew in the back of my mind that I deserved it. On the surface I was too exhausted to take offence.

"I won't do it again," I said.

There was a moment of terrible silence. I sensed that I'd frightened him by staying out so long after dark. My apology and my promise didn't feel sufficient. He stood slowly from his chair, closing his book.

"I saved some food for you."

My gaze wandered to a covered plate on the table. I felt my stomach rumble with appreciation. "You didn't have to do that, Severus," I said quietly.

I suddenly felt quite faint, and leaned against the wall. Severus's eyes tightened further. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," I breathed.

"You need to eat."

He came to me and I accepted his help. He took the broom from me and leaned it against the wall, and held me by the arm, helping me towards the fire and the table. I sat down and he uncovered the plate. Everything was still warm, and it smelled lovely. I took a few shaky sips of water before starting slowly on the food. I felt the energy slowly returning to my limbs, and the approval of my wand from where it rested on the table.

"Don't make a habit of this," Severus said. He was watching over me, looking very stern.

I couldn't help the instinctive spite that reared up in me. "You don't have to take care of me, you know," I said. "I can take care of myself."

He was dreadfully silent, his face motionless. This was far worse than being scowled at. "Can you?" he said.

There was tension in the air. We both knew that if one of us said another wrong thing, there would be no going back.

"I can," I said carefully.

He didn't speak, but I saw in his eyes what he was thinking. All the times I had been so weak in front of him. How dependent I had been on Remus. How stupid I'd been to accept Lucius Malfoy's offer. Severus hadn't seen my strong side, and I could clearly see him doubting that I had one.

"Why did you marry me?" I asked suddenly.

I hadn't been consciously wondering it, but as the words came out I knew that the question had been simmering in my mind since the evening he'd proposed.

His eyes were guarded. "You needed me."

"No, why did you ask me?"

I watched him desperately, waiting for him to answer. His eyes softened slightly, and through them I saw the hint of that look I'd seen before. That night when I eavesdropped on him and Frederica. After Remus left, when he found me in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place and held onto me as I apparated. The look contained depths. It was as though he were straining to communicate something to me, something he didn't know how to say in words. I didn't know what it meant, and just as I had been before, I was afraid of it.

He stood there for a long and painful moment. Then his face took on the hard and almost hateful expression it had always firmly worn years ago. He picked up his book from the chair by the fire, and walked out of the hall. I speechlessly watched him go.

Off to a brilliant start, Willa, Fred's voice said, once I was alone. And I burst into tears.